Feelings
by GinkoMushiMaster
Summary: Brainy is unable to deal with the physical and emotional feelings that come with being human. He hides away in his room, trying to escape the rest of the world. It would take a Superman to save him from this.


**A/N~** Whats up? Its been so long since this story was up. But now it is revised and so much better than before. I do hope everyone enjoys it!

Reviews are welcome!

Never in all my years have I imagined how strange being human would feel.

When I was originally created, I was given the same programming as any other on my planet. Same memory capacity, practically infinite if you were wondering, and the same original design. Of coarse, I did alter that after some years.

My 12th level intelligence allowed me to absorb all information on anything that at any point peeked my interest.

Humans were always a fascinating subject to me. It was something I developed a passion for. And of coarse was my reasoning for changing my design in the first place. The humans were such a young and admittedly ignorant species, and with so much potential. But they were unaware of how their actions effected their planet, and the damage was never able to be undone.

My interest quickly consumed every thought that crossed my mind, becoming an obsession. And it wasn't long before my obsession to _study_ them became an obsession to _be_ them. It was absolutely _thrilling!_ They were much more compassionate than my Coluan kin. Their emotions were complex and different humans would react differently in the same situation. They were so original.

I thought that I had been able to comprehend emotions. Been able to understand the feeling of physical touch. But I was sadly mistaken. Those things were much more complex than I, a former Coluan robot, without even an ability to feel physical touch, could understand. Sure, I knew when someone touched me. The pressure censors placed throughout my body would tell my brain when anything came into contact with them. But I'd never actually felt anything in my life.

So at present, I sit, curled into a ball of quivering flesh. The painfully hard wall pressing against my back and the cold floor chills the tender skin of my bottom. I have no knowledge of how long I've been sitting here, my internal clock no longer in existence, and that frightens me. Everything that touches me is deathly terrifying, but there is no way to undo what has been done. All of the touch that I used to long for brings me nothing but horrid fear.

Though my skin matches the green color of old, it is no less flesh. My organic brain still holds my 12th level intelligence, as it does my knowledge and memories. But aside from that, nothing is as I hoped it would be. Any emotion I previously felt was all simulated,no matter how emotional I could get at stressful times. All of my emotion was programmed into me by beings that could not feel true emotion for themselves.

What a fool I was for believing I knew what I was getting myself into.

I never knew what strange thought would cross my mind, or what of those strange thoughts would pass my lips before given the proper thought process. So I stayed here. Locked in my room. My cold, unwelcoming laboratory of a room. Never before have I hated having so many cold, metal contraptions in my presence. I haven't seen the other members of the legion since my original transformation, and I had no intention of ever seeing them again. I am weak, and I am scared. I just pray that they leave me to my solitude, undisturbed.

Sudden whispers pierce my ears. I look to my door, barely able to see it through the thick darkness. I fear what I can't see, and I don't want to face my fears. I've done enough of that as of late.

"Brainy?"

Superman is outside.

"Brainy," he calls again, knocking gently on the door. The echo hurts my ears. "Are you alright in there?"

I say nothing.

A long silence dragged over the passing moments. I tell myself he has gone, then the sounds of the buttons of the key-pad break the silence.

I could command COMPUTO to override the key-code lock. The thought crosses my mind, but I will not. No matter how long I force the world away, I will have too deal with it in the end.

Bright light floods in and burn my eyes. I bury my head in my folded arms, shuddering at the contact of my skin. I stay this way, even after hearing the automatic doors slide closed.

The echo of his footfall burns my ears as he creeps closer. I can almost feel him kneeling over me.

"Brainy?"

I feel my heart pounding in my chest and I curl myself more tightly. My face becomes warm, and I know exactly what emotion has taken hold of me. Embarrassment. I am embarrassed of my lack of clothing, something I tore off after finally getting tired of the constant rubbing against my skin. Air was much easier to deal with than cloth. I was not completely bare, of coarse. I did leave on a small undergarment, being naked wasn't a very comfortable thing for me. It felt almost unnatural. I suppose that is how I would think after having permanent "clothing" for the entirety of my life.

"Brainy, are you alright?" His hand touches my shoulder and a shock-wave shoots though my body. I become stiff, my head thrown back, and I let out a long, drawn out scream.

It wasn't painful, not in the least, but the warmth from his hand... I did not know what to do. It was a reflex.

He was quiet for awhile after that.

The silence lasted long moments. He was thinking of a response, I know this, but I almost wish he wouldn't respond at all.

"Listen," he begins. He seems reluctant. "I don't know what's running though that head of yours, but I want to help you if there's something wrong."

He wants me to respond, I know that. But I refuse. I am unable to help myself. How could he?

He sighs, his warm breath making me twitch. "Brainy, I can't help you unless you tell me whats wrong."

There is no possibility that he could help me. He knows nothing of my situation and yet he believes that he can help? How foolish. No one knows how I feel, not a single one. "I do not want your help."

"What?"

Anger floods through my veins and I get to my feet. I glare down at him, still crouched down on the floor. He looks confused, and I don't care. "I said, 'I don't want your help!'"

"You don't mean that."

"Be silent," I demanded. "You know nothing of what I mean! My words are important, and not to be waisted on lies! How dare you suggest such a thing of me!"

He stood now, towering above me. Our eyes lock, and his expression is unreadable.

It isn't fair. Here I am, voice loud and fists clenching, anger and frustration pouring from every pour in my newly organic body, and hes just standing there looking completely unaffected.

Voices get louder, my voice and the voice of my echo, as my frustration mounts. "Why are you looking at me like that," I scream. "Why are you not angry, too? This is not how emotions are supposed to function! I despise these emotions! They are broken! Everything I am feeling is broken! You stand there, so composed, so unaffected by this. It makes me seem like an ill-behaved child!"

Water pools in my eyes, dangerously close to falling.

"I want everything to go away! I am unable to identify the thoughts swirling around in my head, and my body wont stop shaking-" My faces feels wet now, and my words are interrupted by a choking sob. So this is what crying feels like. "I-I have been trying to be human for so long...and now-ngh...and now that I have what I w-want, I can't stand it!" I desperately wipe at my eyes, trying to stop the wetness. Air is nearly impossible to breath without spitting it out in a chocking cough. My lungs are soar from the spasms and my chest aches with a sort of fuzzy burning that threatens to devour me in my entirety.

Something takes hold of my wrist and I force my eyes open. I can't see through the tears, but I know it's him.

He stands there, eyes full of compassion and a sad smile plastered on his face. I watch him bring his opposite hand up and cup my cheek, and feel him adjust his thumb ever so slightly, wiping tears from beneath my eye. "You're emotions aren't broken," he says. Superman pulls me into a tight hug, surrounding me with his body's warmth. "I may not know exactly what you're going through, Brainy, but everything you feel right now is natural. They may seem strong to you now, but once you adjust to them, they wont be as horrible as you say they are."

The warmth of his body mixed with his words and surround me with a warm tingling that threatened to make me melt. My legs start to shake and give to warning before giving out.

"I got you," he says, hoisting my body into his arms.

My body is stiffens at the contact and forces a shiver up my spine. I cautiously lay my head against his shoulder and wrap my legs limply around his waist.

His hand presses against my bottom, trying to keep me up, and my face becomes warm again. I know he did this with no perverse intentions, but I can't help the embarrassment. I am nearly naked after all. But I can feel the stiffness in his touch. He knows how much any touch terrifies me, and I respect him for trying to be careful about this. But his touch wasn't all as terrifying as everything else. His body gave me a kind of comfort, the softness of his hols

"I wish I could help you," Superman continues. "I guess that since you used to be metal, you were never able to feel real touch before. But I can't really change that. I know that, over time, you will be able to get used to the feelings. It will be hard, but it will happen. Just remember, I'm always here for you. I may not be able to stay in this time, but a few more days here won't cause any trouble. And you can always keep in contact with me. As long as you don't tell me things about my future, it wont effect the time-line. So whenever you need me, just let me know."

I wrap my arms around his neck and nuzzle against him. "I'm tired."

He laughs a little and walks me towards my bed. But I don't want to go there.

"Don't put me down," I say, wrapping my legs tighter around him. I know he probably doesn't want to stand there for a few hours while I sleep, but I don't want his warmth to leave me.

He kneels against the bed and one arm leaves my back, arranging the blankets behind me. He uses that same arm to pull my legs off of him and for the shortest moment, I fear he is going to make me lay there alone.

"I'm not going to leave," he says, stroking my back. "But I need you to let go of me for a minute."

Though reluctant, I do as he asks. I wince when he lays me against the bed. I open my eyes, trying to find his eyes in the darkness, but he is no longer above me. My face feels wet again, and I hear myself let out a whimper.

"I'm right here."

The bed sinks down beside me and Superman's hand strokes my cheek.

I immediately wrap around him, giving him no time to adjust into a comfortable laying position, and bury my face in his chest. I feel his hand lay against my hip, his thumb stroking it, and I gasp a little.

"S-sorry," he stutters, pulling away.

"No," I whisper, turning my head so my voice can be heard. "Put it back."

He does so, and I sigh. His body head radiates though every fiber of my being, and my breathing begins to even out. Our breath mixes together, and I give him one, small smile before sleep captures the both of us.


End file.
